


A Given

by fondofthehowes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondofthehowes/pseuds/fondofthehowes
Summary: “You’re in love with her.”Alistair flinches, head turning slowly to the source of the voice, almost positive he’s hallucinating. He finds he isn't. Rather, the Maker has decided to be exceptionally cruel today. With a quick readjustment of his shoulders, as if he were going into battle, he crosses his arms. Smiles faintly at the joke being made.“Who, Morrigan?”
Relationships: Alistair & Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 21





	A Given

“You’re in love with her.” 

Alistair flinches, head turning slowly to the source of the voice, almost positive he’s hallucinating. He finds he isn't. Rather, the Maker has decided to be exceptionally cruel today. With a quick readjustment of his shoulders, as if he were going into battle, he crosses his arms. Smiles faintly at the joke being made.

“Who, Morrigan?” He asks, tilting his head. “Let me guess who the joke involves. The bird you saw me looking at earlier? A woman in the market that offered me something? Go on then.” 

Morrigan’s eyes narrow and she tsks. “May whatever powers that be help Magnolia if she’s in love with you too. Forget I said anything.” 

With a wave of her hand she starts back off towards her tent, but Alistair jolts forward, reaching out to grab it. She jerks, turning to him before tucking the held wrist away from his grasp. She wasn’t joking with him. That’s almost worse. 

“Wait. How—” Alistair starts, swallowing as he frantically searches for the topic of discussion in camp. She’s nowhere to be found. Likely out throwing with Zevran or bathing. Both thoughts burn red on his neck. “How do you know that?” 

“What you’re really asking me is: is it obvious? I think it is. As does Wynne and Zevran. Unsure about the others,” Morrigan sighs, eyes flitting around the grounds before looking back at him. “But you don’t care about  _ them _ knowing, do you?” 

Alistair bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, giving an unspoken answer. It isn’t like he himself has known for long. Maker, it was only a few weeks ago, back in Orzammar. The way she stood before them, speaking with no shake in her tone in a court that wasn’t her own. After all the horror they saw down there, she held herself together with a terrifying ease. It was amazing. 

Now, they were heading back to Redcliffe to speak to Eamon about the Landsmeet before proceeding to Denerim. It made travel harder, not to watch her so intently. Each time she looked to him in question for something, a smile soft on her lips just for him, it dug deeper into him. Nights where she fell asleep tucked against him, breathing softly without terror striking her sleep, he sank. 

By all rights, Morrigan was correct. He was very in love with a one Magnolia Cousland. 

“She doesn’t know, if that is your worry. ‘Tis fortunate for you that our illustrious leader has the focus that she does. It would take telling her in order for her to figure it out at this rate,” Morrigan muses, fingers tapping against her arm. “Do you want me to tell her?” 

“No! Why would you? I mean, you don’t know if she is. Unless you’re actively trying to  _ sabotage _ the one good thing I have. Wouldn’t put it past you,” Alistair bites, weakly, like a mabari pup learning how to tug something away. There was too much fear in his tone for it to hit and he knew it, shoulders deflating in a quiet defeat. “You’re close, aren’t you?” 

At that, Morrigan smiles a little. “Yes. We are. Much to my own chagrin, she has worked her way in.” 

“She does that, it seems,” Alistair says distantly, affection clear in his tone as he once again swept the ground for her. She appears in his vision, shaking the ink of her hair dry with her hands as she walks towards the fire. “So?” 

Morrigan follows his eyeline, raising a brow. Taking in an audible breath, she again turns back to her tent. Alistair doesn’t move this time, held captive by the sight at the fire. 

“I think so. Though, contrary to other truth, I do not in fact know everything. I’m certain you’ll learn in time for yourself,” Morrigan replies, voice tired, but genuine. 

Walking towards Magnolia, his chest warms again, expanding rapidly as if it were being inflated just being near her. As he rests, sitting only a foot away, it nearly aches at how it wants to burst. Still shaking out her hair, she shivers, laugh falling out around a chatter of her teeth. 

“ _I’m freezing_ ,” Magnolia huffs, wrinkling her nose as she draws her knees in tighter. Looking to Alistair, she seems to plot for a split second before moving, settling herself quickly into his lap. “I’m stealing your warmth. Zevran is teaching me to be a better thief.” 

A low, awkward laugh leaves Alistair as he curls his arms around her, tucking a piece of her hair back behind her ear. What once was threatening to burst does, harshly against his ribs and lungs in an ache that verges on painful. She couldn’t steal his warmth, or heart, or anything else that he had, thief or not. 

It was willingly given. 

**Author's Note:**

> A quick prompt written for DA Drunk Writing Club! I’m soft! Help!
> 
> Twitter: @fondofthehowes


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